A Song From the Absent
To the Loved One at Home
AWAY from home, how slow the hours
Pass wearily along!
I feel alone, though many forms
Around my pathway throng.
There’s none that look on me in love,
Wherever I do roam;
I’m longing for thy gentle smile,
My dearest one, at home.
I walk around; strange things I see,
Much that is fair to view;
Man’s art and Nature’s handiwork,
And all to me is new.
But, ah! I feel my joy were more,
If, while ’mid these I roam,
It could be shared with thee I love,
My dearest one, at home.
Blow, blow ye winds, and bear me on
My long and arduous way!
Move on, slow hours, more swiftly move,
And bring to life the day
When, journey done, and absence o’er,
No more I distant roam;
When I again shall be with thee,
My dearest one, at home.